


Over the Precipice

by fruitcake2015



Category: Lewis (TV)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-01 09:57:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4015411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fruitcake2015/pseuds/fruitcake2015
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set to series 8 if 'Beyond Good and Evil' had happened differently. What would have happened if Lizzie and Robbie had both gone to the pumping station and the unthinkable had happened. How do our beloved threesome cope without Robbie? Does the tragedy rip them apart or bring them closer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is for fan purposes only, all characters belong to ITV.

This is my first ever fan fiction, so apologies if it isn't the greatest thing since sliced bread. This story popped into my head after the last episode of the latest series of Lewis, and I've been struggling to get it out since. I would genuinely hate it if this happened, because I love the fact that Hobson and Lewis are finally something! This is if Robbie and Lizzie had gone to the pumping station and been killed - please don't hate me for it - and how the remaining characters cope with it. I hope to continue with the story but am starting a new / first job next week. If people have seen it on the other fan fiction site, part of me is thinking of changing the story slightly ;)

* * *

 

 

Laura put the phone down, and considered what Jean had just informed her through the haze of drink; James had turned up to work drunk, caused a massive scene, handed in his resignation and then left again, and Jean was obviously really worried.  Laura, picked up her glass and poured the remaining dregs of wine down her throat. Neither she nor Jean could really blame him for being in a drunken stupor, especially not her, as it was only 2 in the afternoon and she was already somewhat drunk. She mused about what Jean had told her, although not surprised she did find it massively unsettling, especially how James was now acting. She needed to go and see him, he wasn’t coping that much was obvious.  She need to help him through this, because in helping him, maybe she could forget her own pain.

She rose unsteadily from the kitchen table, noting just HOW quiet the house was, especially now that Robbie’s family had left _,_ no Jack running around and giving the house some kind of warmth. As she walked unsteadily to the key bowl situated by the front door on the little table, she noted in her haze that Monty wasn’t in his usual place, lazily stretched out underneath the window where the sun beam hit the floor. She knew she’d possibly had too much to drink by this point as she found herself wondering whether Monty had become like Grey friars Bobby, and that if she went to his grave, she might find Monty sitting there. She shook her head. Monty was a fickle cat at best and due to the chaotic few weeks that the household had been through he’d probably found someone else to feed him.

She paused by the table by the front door to pick up her keys, and realised with a sudden jolt that she shouldn’t drive as she was probably already way over the limit. As she picked up the keys, she saw the other keys belonging to Robbie sitting there, glinting in the afternoon sun seemingly asking to be used by their owner. Suddenly she felt sick, a familiar wave of nausea flooding over her which came out of nowhere, rather like all the other times over the past 3 weeks. She tried to swallow it down, as she didn’t want to be sick, not now. She knew that today it had come from her drinking and not eating. She also knew that her body needed her to eat, she’d seen several bodies on her mortuary slab ravished by drink and knew it was not the way she wanted to go, but couldn’t face anything.

The nausea was still there and battling with her, so she made her way back to the kitchen and stood by the coffee machine, trying to decide between making herself a coffee or having a glass of water. Since he died, decisions had become so much harder.  As she was hit by another nauseous wave, the decision was made for her, so she went to the sink, turning on the tap to make sure the hot water had run through and so it was ice cold whilst getting a glass down. _Jesus Laura. You really need to get your act together. This isn’t good for anyone.  You need to be sober!_

She finished her second glass of water - noting how she felt better and that the nausea had thankfully lessened - and made her way to the front door, hoping that the warm summer air would do her some good especially if she needed all her faculties ready for doing battle with him. He was enigmatic at best. On her way back to the front door, she stopped, trying hard not to look at the other set of keys and picked up the James’ solitary key next to the bowl. Robbie had made sure when James had left for Spain that they had a spare key, just to keep his flat free from damp or whatever Robbie had been worried about. She could crumble right there, into the grief that seemed to be like the nausea and wave like. But she needed to see James. Make the lad see sense. Crumbling here whilst James was on the other side of Oxford wasn’t going to do any good for either of them. She needed to see him, make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid. She suddenly had so much to say to him, and she really couldn’t let him give up the job, she couldn’t wave goodbye to another person she loved. 

Laura unlocked the door to James’ flat and walked in. She knew he wouldn’t like her doing this, but, she cared about him, and she had things that needed to be said. She peered around; the flat was dark, the curtains were pretty much drawn, with a small amount of light coming in from the windows and it smelt of cigarettes. She assumed that if the curtains were drawn there would be a smoky haze, like in the years before smoking was banned in pubs. Empty bottles were strewn around. She knew where she would find him, so from the times she’d been there before, she walked over to the tiny lounge. As her eyes got used to the gloom, she saw James’ figure hunched in one of his brown leather arm chairs, long legs over the side. Beside the chair was a small table that she knew Robbie had brought him when he had moved in not so long ago, and as she had realised before she had even got to his flat, that there would be half empty bottle of scotch on the table, and the glass filled up. 

James didn’t even bother looking up as he heard her letting herself into the flat. He knew it was her. He knew the moment he had left work in his drunken state Innocent would ring her. It made him feel worse, he should be going to _HER_ , not her coming to _HIM_. She was the one who needed looking after, not him. She was the one who had lost the love of her life. He took a long gulp of the scotch, feeling it burn, but not taking away the piercing pain in his chest, instead almost matching the pain.

Laura sighed as she watched him. She wanted to grab him and hug him, and protect him from the pain, but the James sitting in the chair wasn’t probably going to thank her for that. So instead, although she hated scotch, she grabbed a glass from the side cabinet – not bothering to see whether it was clean or not her and poured herself a large glass. She realised she didn’t need it – but right now, she needed some Dutch courage. She could tell just by him sitting there, that this was going to be a difficult conversation, she needed to tell him that she cared. She needed to make him stay.  

She sat down in the other chair next to the table, holding her glass.  ‘James…’

He looked up at her… ‘I know. I knew the moment I left she would…’ He felt angry, and the bitterness showed in his voice, thought Laura.

‘Because she cares, . I care. James this isn’t you…you turn up to work drunk and then hand in your notice. You know she won’t accept your resignation and what do you think she was going to do? Just leave you to it.’

‘I hoped so…’

‘James, I couldn’t. You know that. You’re one of the best detectives that the force has. I can’t let you leave… you’re… the only thing.. Where..’ Laura struggled to find the right words as she stared down at her glass, then she plumped for the line that had been going round her mind since she woke up and took the first sip of wine; ‘What would Robbie say?’

‘Robbie?! Don’t do that to me Laura.’ He did his sarcastic little snort, that she was so used to him doing. He looked at her, and realised, even in the gloom of the flat he could see how the past 3 weeks had taken its toll on her. She looked so tired, thinner, gaunt, and looked like she had aged by about 10 years. _Christ._ ‘I just want to get away from here, the memories, the fact I feel  like I’ve let everyone down that I love.’

Laura looked up at James in the gloom; ‘Oh for god sake James, you’ve let no one down. You certainly haven’t let me down. You would if you left though…’

‘It would be better if I wasn’t here in Oxford,’ _Christ ‘_ he was like a father figure to me Laura, and she was my sergeant…and I couldn’t even stop them being killed!’

‘James, none of them would have blamed you. Robbie wouldn’t, Lyn doesn’t…’ She took a large sip of scotch, knowing that she hated it, but knowing it may make this conversation easier. She had to make him stay, and right now this wasn’t working.

‘Well.. Tony does. You should have seen how he looked at me at the funeral. Not that I blame him. …I should have been THERE, it should have been me!!! He screamed like a wounded animal, making Laura jump and threw the glass at the wall, shattering it. She looked at him, ready to scold him for behaving so stupidly, but instead realise as she glanced across at him that he was crying. His great shoulders shaking.

She’d never seen James cry, not even at either Lizzie or Robbie’s funeral, well not that she knew of.  She knew that he had to let it out. She put her glass down, and slowly made her way across to where James was sitting. She sat on the arm of the chair, rubbing his arm which just made him cry harder. She made what she hoped were comforting noises, telling him that it was OK, that she was here. _How can it be, I can barely look after myself_ she thought

James hated himself for this, he hated that he was breaking down in front of HER, when really it should have been the other way round, but the more he thought about it, the more the pain in his chest seemed to suffocate him and he found himself unable to stop crying.  He felt himself put his arms around the tiny doctors waist and let himself go into the grief. His throat felt raw and burning from the tears, but it felt right. She felt so comforting, and realised with some shock that he could feel her ribs, and even through his tears whether she’d eaten at all today.

He doesn’t know how long he cries for, it could have been a minute, or an hour. Finally he stops, and as he sits there, arms around the tiny doctor, he feels drained, his body shuddering as he tries to get back his breath.  ‘Did that make you feel better? You shouldn’t keep it all in James..’ He could smell the scotch on her breath, and the smell of her perfume. James nodded, although now he felt somewhat embarrassed.

James peered at Laura, she looked so small. James was suddenly hit by this need to protect her, to be with her, to stop her feeling this immense pain. _Who was there for her? Who sat with her when she cried?_ If questioned later he would blame it on the scotch but suddenly he wanted to take away her pain, be there for her, be a comforting presence to her, and with that he couldn’t stop himself leaning in to kiss her. Their mouths met, their tongues intertwined, desperately searching, almost like two drowning lovers seeking their last kiss. Then it became all teeth and tongue, and rough as they lost themselves to the kiss. He could taste the scotch on her, his hand went up to the back of her neck, bringing her closer to him, and he sucked at her tongue more deeply, his other hand still round her waist, her hand on his shoulder. Through the drunken haze the alarm bells started rang in his head, _what are you doing?! You’re kissing Laura. Dr Hobson. Laura Hobson. The pathologist. YOU ARE KISSING ROBBIE’S LAURA._

 

  _Shit._

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was a moment or two before he managed to put his thoughts together and act on them and he finally pulled away; guilt and panic washing over him. Hadn’t she just comforted him, and he was now taking advantage of her? _You complete dolt James, what are you thinking?_

In the moment where he’d pulled away Laura could see the panic in his eyes even in the gloom, wide eyed - he looked like a startled rabbit caught in the headlights. _Oh James._

‘Shit, Laura.. Oh God. I don’t know what I was thinking..’ leaving the sentence hanging in mid-air and managing to scramble awkwardly out of the chair to a standing position; almost knocking her to the floor where she sat on the arm of the chair. He ran his hand through his short hair in complete despair of his actions;  ‘You should go Laura…’ _I can’t be with other people. I just destroy them._

‘James… don’t’ she said softly. The last thing this man needed was for her to just go. In fact it was the last thing _she_ needed. He looked at her, grabbed his glass of scotch from the table and downed it, smashing the glass onto the table. ‘If I go now, when we do see each other again, it will be as awkward as hell, and I for one couldn’t cope with it.’ She looked up at him, he was slightly bent over, his hands covering his face. She took his bent arm, and with a bit of force, pulled the arm away from his face, and peered into his face.  

‘Look at me James..’ _I need you._

He looked at her.. ‘James, I don’t want to go back to the… house…’ _alone.. It wasn’t warm anymore, it wasn’t a home, a home had Robbie there._

‘But…I took advantage of you comforting me’ he protested

‘James, trust me. I’m beyond all of that. It’s OK. I don’t want to be alone. I’ve never been in so much pain in my life, and I don’t know how the hell to cope with it, _if I you do make me go, I’ll end up going back to the house, drinking too much and then spend the evening staring down a toilet bowl, which I guess you’ll do too._ The loneliness.. it’s almost palpable. I need you, just as much as you need me, and making me leave isn’t going to help either of us.’

She suddenly threw her hands up in despair, ‘I just want to feel something that isn’t pain!’ She felt herself crumbling, so reached around, and poured herself another glass, drinking it in one go, wincing it as it went down her throat. _Why isn’t the pain being numbed?_

James nodded, he knew exactly what she was saying, albeit he hadn’t been in love with Robbie like her, rather he had lost his best friend, his mentor, a father figure that was more of a father then his own dad. _All those regrets, those harsh words in the prison, when Robbie was just worried, scared about what Lawrie could do._ That was before he even started to think about Lizzie. He looked at her sitting on the arm of the chair looking so small, her head facing towards the floor, her hand was still on his arm. James, moved forwards, and gently took the glass from her and put it on the table. He wrapped his arms around her, and brought her forwards to rest against his chest, his head resting against hers. For what seemed like an hour they stood there, in the quiet, listening to the cars rumble by; taking comfort and strength from just being there.

 James suddenly felt a wetness on his shirt, and bent down to see that she was crying, not hard, but silent tears. He bent down so that he was face to face with her. He made himself look into her eyes, and was glad he couldn’t see that well due to the fuzziness of the alcohol and the gloom of the room, otherwise he would probably start crying again if he could see the depth of the pain that would no doubt be in her eyes.

‘Laura..’

‘I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together..’ she  said softly. She could feel his breath on her face, his eyes even in the gloom looked haunted. Suddenly the scotch hit her all at once, and her thoughts became a jumble.

James looked at Laura concerned with her, eye to eye now. She put her head forwards, and rested her forehead against his, their lips millimetres apart, both feeling the hot breath that intermingled with each others. He knew what was about to happen, _he knew_   that he should stop her, perhaps make her something to eat, because, from the state of her he knew she hadn’t eaten and they could pretend that this tension between them wasn’t happening. Yet, he seemed incapable of it, even though he knew that this was an incredibly bad idea, even though he knew the guilt and everything else would hit him and her full force afterwards

Against his would be sober judgement, he bent his neck and his mouth met her mouth again.  His tongue invaded her mouth, and their tongues started doing battle, his hands moving around to her back, pushing her closer.  One hand in his hair, the other slowly moving down his bent form to his stomach, smoothing down his t-shirt, but desperately trying to find the end of it, so that she could pull it over his head.

She stood up from the arm chair, still in his grip and still urgently kissing him like they were drowning lovers, completely taken by the urgency. With one hand resting on the small of her back, his other hand worked its way up her back, and found the zip of her dress.

He stopped and pulled away from her; ‘are you sure, Laura?’

Even though the scotch had affected her considerably, she knew why he asked, but she no longer cared; ‘make me feel… alive’, _I want to stop feeling pain._ As he lent over her again, his drunken mind but up another alarm bell, _not enough space,_

‘Bed…?’ Drink rendered incapable of finishing the sentence

Laura nodded, and holding his hand followed him through to his bedroom. Immediately as they went through the door, he was kissing her again, this time her tongue meeting his tongue, and then becoming all teeth and tongue, nothing tender about it at all. His hand travelled to where he knew the zip of her dress was and pulled the zip down. He realised that the dress wasn’t moving in the direction he hoped, he stepped away from her, and pulled the dress over her head and chucked it on the floor next to them, at the same time she kicked off her shoes. _._ This time, he slowly pushed her hair to one side, and started licking and biting her neck gently. She groaned, his hands working over the front of her body, tickling her stomach and then feeling their way to her breasts. He gently massaged them through her bra. She groaned again, as heat travelled throughout her body,  whilst her hands travelled inside his t-shirt feeling around. Then she grabbed it and pulled it off, only for it to get stuck half way over his head. He had to stand up, as now part of the t-shirt was stuck on his chin, and she was slightly too small to pull it off all together. She giggled seeing James stuck in his t-shirt, and James as he pulled it off was suddenly struck by how the laughter seemed so right, yet so wrong at the same time.

Laura’s hands travelled over the top half of his body, as they went back to doing battle in their mouths, their lips getting slightly sorer, due to the teethy urgent kisses. _Muscles!_ –her drunken mind screamed. A hand had travelled from being inside her bra, to around the back to where the clasp was, whilst her hands travelled down to his belt, both them of them struggled to undo what they wanted due to the fuzziness of their minds, his second hand travelled down to help Laura undo his belt, and then as he felt the fabric go over the button, he went back to the bra clasp. He pulled freeing one of the little clasps, and then pulled at it roughly. The old bra clasp tore, releasing her breasts and at the same time his jeans fell down his legs, and pooled at his ankles, whilst she made light work on his boxers. As he broke apart from the kiss to step out of the jeans, and boxers she pushed him onto the bed that was in front of them, still standing over him meaning that as he sat up her breasts was in his eye line.

Her hands travelled through his hair, as his mouth met her nipples, making her groan with pleasure. _This is what I need._ His hands travelled down her waist to the edge of her knickers, then worked his hands over them to where he knew where her heat was, feeling the dampness of her against his fingers that had soaked through her knickers, he pushed his finger over the side of her knickers so that they had contact. He felt a stir in his loins, he played with her for a bit longer. The pleasure made her moan, _yes_.

She pushed his torso onto the bed, so that his finger left her, and his mouth left her breasts, and the pleasure dimmed slightly, but, as he moved up the bed, she could see that he was slightly erect and knew she wanted him in her. She needed him. She got onto the bed and between them the heat of the room rose…

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

    


	3. Chapter 3

As Laura woke she felt an arm over her and gentle snoring next to her _Robbie,_ she smiled. Then the last few weeks hit her all at once, she opened her eyes, and looked to her right to see that the arm belonged to a naked James _Jesus_.  Guilt and grief washing over her, _Christ, bloody pain_ and with that her stomach turned, _my head!_ a massive wave of nausea flooded her, _SHIT._ She knew she had to get to the bathroom, NOW,  she couldn’t hold it down, and escaping James’ limbs, she ran as fast as she could to the bathroom, just managing to get to the toilet in time.

James slowly came to, the noise of her leaving so fast had woken him.  It took him a moment to figure out who was in his bathroom, and from the sounds of it, vomiting. _Laura!_ Then ‘ _Shit.._ then _I’m so thirsty.. Christ.. my head._ As he got up he realised he was naked, and trying desperately to put what he thought they may have done out of his mind, he made his unsteadily over to the back of the door and put on his dressing gown.  He turned on the light as he padded into the lounge, making his way carefully through the shattered glass on the floor, the clothes, and cigarette butts, to the kitchen. He got two glasses down, and filled them up with cold water. He downed a glass, and then filled it up again, downing it for the second time, hoping it would help clear his head, and making him feel slightly more sober. As he filled Laura’s glass, he looked at his watch _midnight. When.. How?_

He walked to the bathroom, the light that was on eliminated the room showing him that Laura too was naked, _shit_. His mind whirring to this fact, trying to overcome the headache, he also realised as he got closer, that even in the stale hot air in his flat, she was shivering, whilst a glistening of sweat covered her back from the effort of vomiting. He went back into his room to get her one his t-shirts to help her feel less exposed and to hopefully stop the shivering. He opened the cupboard and noted that he really needed to do some laundry _soon_ as this was his last remaining shirt. Picking it up he went back to the bathroom.

Laura was too engrossed in emptying her stomach to know that he had arrived behind her, until she felt the hand on her back. She looked up - slightly startled from the staring into the toilet bowl - and gave him a weak smile. He put the glass of water on the floor beside her, and straddled her back as he pulled her hair out of the way, holding it up into a pony tail. She could smell the mixture of his sweat, scotch and of his cologne and it made her vomit again.   Still holding her hair with one hand she felt him straddle her; ‘I’m going to flush Laura’ and pressed the button on top of the loo. She pulled her head out of the way, and as she did so realised for the first time that she was naked, whilst he, trying to avoid looking at the sick but failing noted there seemed to be absolutely no food present.

‘Here’ she looked at the hand with the t-shirt in, and took it from him, whilst her stomach still gurgled crazily. ‘Do you want help to put it on?’ he asked.

She nodded, scared of speaking in case she was sick again. In fact she didn’t want to move, but knew she would feel better if she wasn’t sitting here naked in front of him, she turned slightly and as she did the room spun slightly in front of her. Closing her eyes to protect herself against the room spinning, she raised her arms above her head, feeling like she was a child again and her mother was taking care of her. _God I feel ill._ As she felt it go over her, and pulled it over her, her stomach angrily protested against the movement, and with her head feeling like it would explode at any minute, she vomited again. He placed a reassuring hand on his back and rubbed it up and down and then when she finished handed her the water again.

They sat there together, silent for a while. She thought she had probably finished so she moved so that her back was against the bath, and she rose her knees up and pressed her face down into her hands, all the while he watched her.

‘Do you think you’re done?’ She nodded, feeling a bit better.

She looked up at him,  ‘James.. we did, didn’t we?’

James looked at her sitting there, so small, and wasn’t entirely sure how to answer ‘Potentially, yeah..’

‘Oh buggering hell’ came the muffled response from behind her hands.

Unsure of whether it was the situation they were in now or whether she was just commenting on how she felt or even all of it, James decided to ignore what she said -mainly as his head probably couldn’t cope with it. Instead, he decided that he’d what he should have done; before the alcohol and when she first arrived. _I’ll look after her._ In the silence he could hear her stomach gurgling madly.

‘When was the last time you ate Laura?’

She looked up at him, like she couldn’t believe what he was asking. Narrowing her eyes, James could see she was trying to think against what he assumed was one hell of a headache.

‘The day Lyn left.. she cooked us all lasagne before they left…’

James calculated in his mind, today was Wednesday and he knew from talking to her at the funeral it had been Sunday that she was planning to leave. ‘So.. three days.’ _Shit. He needed to get something down her._

She nodded. ‘What about you James?’ suddenly concerned.

‘Ah I’m a cigarette and caffeine man – breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whatever gets you through.’He smiled

She smiled remembering how in another life time that’s what he said about victim, when they discussed what had been found in his stomach. She remembered Robbie saying after she had told them what was his stomach that the victim hadn’t been a happy man _.._ She looked at James _, definitely not a happy man.._

Do you think you could eat something Laura?’

She nodded, ‘Something small.’

He got up from his position against the bath, slightly unsteadily and padded over to the kitchen, sighing at the state of the lounge in the light,  no wonder his head felt like someone was fighting their way out. He realised that this must have been the first time of being awake in a long time where he hadn’t gone straight for the scotch bottle, no wonder his head was so awful. He paused next to the scotch bottle, thinking that whatever had gone on last night he could quickly drink it away, but, the thought of Laura in the bathroom, made him walk past it.  He had a mission. He was going to look after her.  He made his way over to his freezer and pulled out the bread, he put four pieces in the microwave to defrost them, and then placed them in the toaster.

He went back to the bathroom to where Laura was sat hunched up ‘Laura, do you think you can move?’ She nodded, and allowed him to help her up, picking up her glass of water and then walked into the kitchen, noting as she did so she felt stiff and sore.

He got some pain killers from the cupboard, passed them to her, and she swallowed them gratefully. The toast popped up, so he put it on their plates and they ate together in silence. Laura feeling better that some food was passing her lips.

‘Do you want to talk about…’

Laura shook her head, she didn’t and her head wouldn’t be able to cope with it.  James felt relief pass over him, his head certainly couldn’t cope with discussing what they thought may or may not have happened.   James I-phone which had been on charge for the past week on the countertop, suddenly jumped to life. _Saved by the bell_ she thought. Both of them realised who it would be long before he answered. Who else would be ringing at this time?

‘Hathaway’

On the other side of the phone, Innocent’s voice came through loud and clear

‘I need to tell you this Hathaway, before you find out from anyone else, Peterson got the bastard, we’ve brought her in.’

James sat on the chair that a moment before he had got out of, clutching the side of the table, relief washing over him.

‘Her?’

‘Yes, Pamela. I’m going to go down in a second to have her explain to me why, but I thought I would tell you first. By the way I’ve been trying to get hold of Dr Hobson, but…’

‘She’s here, Ma’am. I’ll tell her.’

Innocent decided to ignore why Dr Hobson was around at Hathaway’s at this time of night but then she was a grown adult and realised that it was probably better they were together rather than apart..

‘Oh and James, I’m not accepting your resignation. You’re one of the best cops we have! Get what you need to out of your system and come and see me.’ The line cut dead.

James put the phone down, and looked at Laura. He looked like he’d seen a ghost thought Laura. 

‘What is it?’

_I want to kill her._

‘James?’

‘Peterson arrested her. It’s over.’ _But it’s  not over. It won’t bring any of them back._ He got up from his seat, and started to make his way out of the kitchen.

The air suddenly seemed to be pushed from her lungs. ‘Oh my god, finally’ she whispered, a sense of relief washing over her. He turned back and looked at her. She looked at him,

‘Where are you going?’

‘Isn’t that obvious?’

‘James. Not in this state. No.’

The sternness in her voice, made him look at her and take note, he smiled realising that this was Dr Hobson sat at his breakfast bar, and that she could be downright scary at times. Suddenly he saw her crumble, as everything from that evening, the past few weeks enveloped her and suddenly the tears were pouring down her cheeks, she let out an animal like howl as her feelings became too much. James was there in a second, next to her where she was sitting, wrapping his arms around her as she sobbed, massive bone shuddering sobs. He held her to his waist and she could feel the softness of the dressing gown against her cheek. He made what he hoped were comforting sounds, until his own heart broke at the sights and sounds of her sobbing, _I can’t leave Oxford when I know she’s all alone. But I can’t make it better for her. I can’t bring them back and all I want to do is see him. Tell him how I feel about him_. _God I wish it was me in that coffin. Lizzie...that poor woman._  He felt huge warm tears running down his cheeks.

Finally she managed to get herself in check, hiccupping with emotion and looked up as a tear fell on her nose. He looked down at her, and she realised through the stinging pain in her eyes and the blurriness of tears, that he too was crying. She stood up and hugged him, both of them enveloped by the grief they felt.

They weren’t sure of how long they stood there sobbing, taking comfort from one another, but eventually James stopped, and another wave of embarrassment swept over him.

‘Sorry…’

Laura pulled herself together, her eyes felt raw from the crying, and felt completely drained. She pulled herself up, and put on her best Dr Hobson’s voice, and decided to ignore what he’d just said;

‘James, if you do want to go down the station later, I won’t stop you, but need to take a shower and then sleep  in that order, and then drink about a gallon of coffee before I even allow you to get near the car.’

He smiled at her, thankful that some small part of the doctor had returned and walked off in the direction of the shower, he couldn’t remember the last time he showered. As he left, she saw the state of the lounge in front of her properly for the first time; bottles and cigarettes and smashed glass aplenty _Oh James. You’re worse then me._  She heard the shower turn on, and she moved around slowly picking up the bottles, opening the window to allow the warm summer air come through, taking the smell of fustiness of the flat away. She was grateful to be doing something, so she couldn’t think about the pain, guilt or anything else that seemed to constantly follow her around, nor was she able to think about what had happened in the last few hours. She was pretty sure she was still drunk though, as she kept having to put a hand out to steady herself.

After his shower - which he spent the majority of it leaning against the shower wall to steady himself - he padded back into the lounge, a towel wrapped round him, and stopped as he watched her finishing picking up the shattered pieces of glass from when he had thrown it at the wall. He leant against the wall watching her;

‘Laura, you needn’t worry.. I would have done that…’

‘That’s a blatant lie James. You would have sat around here in this for weeks.’ He knew that she was right, he also knew that when facing Laura as Dr Hobson he would be beaten, so went back to his room to dry himself off, and then come back in and help her. As he dried himself he took note that there were no condoms hanging around, either a good or bad thing depending.

Laura;  eyes stinging, stomach complaining, head feeling like someone was playing the drums, watched him go, and suddenly tiredness swept over her. She felt so drained. She walked over to the bin, wrapping the last remaining bits of glass into a newspaper and made her way back picking up her dress, and slumped down into the armchair. She sighed, picked up her legs and bundled herself into it, and within seconds was in a deep sleep.

 


End file.
